


The Worst Best Friends That Anyone Could Have

by SerenitySky



Category: Fantastic Four (Movieverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)
Genre: Best Friends, Gen, two assholes and their adventures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenitySky/pseuds/SerenitySky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny is a good friend, he bails Peter out of class and takes him to do way more interesting and fun things. Peter, as usual, just sighs and goes along with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Best Friends That Anyone Could Have

**Author's Note:**

> A gift in celebration of my reaching 200 (now 250ish) tumblr followers. Also, bonus points if you guys find the hidden reference!

Peter was on the verge of falling asleep. Normally he enjoyed his courses, found them interesting, but today he couldn’t even properly make out what the professor was saying. All week his duties as a masked vigilante had kept him up much later than usual and no matter how many energy drinks and cups of coffee he downed it was finally catching up with him. 

He couldn’t rest his head on his arms, that was far too comfortable. Even placing his chin in his hand was sure to quickly bring sleep. So he sat up straight and as uncomfortably as he could in the hopes that would be enough to keep himself from slumping out of his chair and onto the floor. Peter covered his yawns as best as he could and would jolt himself slightly if he began to feel the clutches of the sandman take hold. 

Peter suddenly felt a very slight tingling at the back of his head and even in his exhausted state he knew it was his spider-sense. He internally groaned; he _really_ did not want to deal with some crazed villain right now. 

He turned his head to the open door, to where his senses were directing him. His eyes widened at the leather-jacketed figure waving at him. Peter buried his face in his hands; of all people, _Johnny fucking Storm_ was standing outside of his classroom wearing that stupid, cocky smirk of his. This was not going to end well. 

Peter dared to peek through his fingers, not really wanting to let the mischief-maker out of his sight. He saw Johnny subtly peer into the classroom and make a face when he heard what the professor was saying. He rolled his eyes at Peter and jerked his thumb towards the exit, eyebrows raising suggestively. 

Understanding right away what he was going to try and do, Peter shook his head and mouthed _'No!'_ with as much emphasis as one can without making a sound. 

Johnny grinned wide, nodded slowly and mouthed _'yes'_. He glanced up and down the hallway, checking to make sure no one saw him. He met Peter’s gaze and snapped his fingers, causing a small flame to hover above them. 

Peter’s eyes widened to the point where he thought they were going to pop out of his head. He shook his head wildly and gestured with his hands, trying to get the other man to stop. Johnny did nothing but grin wider and slowly back out of view. 

“Mr. Parker.” 

Peter immediately stopped his actions and turned his attention to the professor. 

“Is there something you would like to share with us?” 

“No sir, there was a…uh…fly,” he lied. 

The professor eyed him suspiciously for a moment before returning to his lecture. Not ten seconds later, the fire alarm went off. 

While everyone else around him rushed to get out, Peter squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. He sighed and took his time getting up, making sure to gather all of his things before heading out the door. 

He was about to turn down the hallway when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him in the opposite direction. 

“Hey there, Webhead,” Johnny smiled while towing Peter down the empty hall. 

“Matchstick, always a pleasure,” he replied dryly, letting himself be pulled along knowing full well there was no use in resisting. 

Storm frowned only slightly at the nickname. “Now, is that any way to thank someone who just saved you from a particularly boring and useless droning?” 

Peter ignored his question. “What did you set on fire?” he asked bluntly. 

Johnny stopped and turned to Peter, mock horror written upon his face. “I am appalled, appalled and hurt that you would think so lowly of me.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow in response. 

“I only held my flame up to a smoke detector.” 

When he saw that Peter was still doubtful, he placed his left hand over his chest and raised his right. 

“Scout’s honor.” 

Peter just rolled his eyes and brushed past him. “Wrong hand, Charmander,” he smirked. 

Johnny turned on his heel to follow Peter out, particularly pleased with himself that he was able to get the other man to go along with him. 

“If I might object,” Johnny began, falling into step beside Peter, “I’d say that I more resemble a Charizard, y’know, with the whole flying and awesomeness thing.” 

“Uh-huh, if you say so,” Peter replied, opening a door at the end of the hall. He quickly glanced around to make sure no one was there and as he suspected there wasn’t, considering it was a side door that was rarely used. He exited the building, Johnny bounding right behind him. 

“So where would you like to go, Aragog?” Johnny asked, sauntering down the road with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. “What would you like to do now that you are no longer in danger of dying from boredom?” 

“You’re the one who sprung me out in the first place, you tell me,” Peter yawned. 

Johnny sucked in a breath. “Ooh, that’s a dangerous power to grant me, Spider-boy.” He noticed how bleary-eyed Peter was and smirked evilly. 

“But you’ve already said it and there’s no take backs, so!” He draped an arm around the man’s shoulders. 

“First we need to wake precious Sleeping Beauty, and before you even think it there is no way in hell I am volunteering, as devilishly handsome and irresistible as I may be.” He jabbed a finger at Peter as he spoke. 

“Yeah, no, I’m good. No waking needed, _especially_ from you.” Even as he said it though, Peter yawned widely. 

Johnny wasn’t easily deterred. “No no, I think you definitely need something. Y’know, Trickshot Barton was telling me about this strip joint he took you to a couple years back—” 

“No!” Peter made wild gestures with his hands, “No we do not need to go there. I’m awake!” He wasn’t sure what he would have to do to get them to go somewhere else, but he would do whatever it took. His head began to ache at the memory from his teenage years of Clint dragging him out and then spending the early morning hours with his head hanging in the toilet. 

Storm just laughed at his friend’s antics, “If you say so.” 

Peter searched for an alternative. “Uh…how about we go to the movies?” 

Johnny made a face. “What are we, on a date or something? No.” 

“They have hot pretzels in the park?” 

A raised eyebrow was all he received in response. Peter threw his arms in the air, exasperated. 

“What do you want me to suggest then? That…that we steal a car, raid a liquor store, and sneak into a Yankees game?!” 

As he spoke, Johnny’s grin grew wider and wider until he looked like the Cheshire Cat. 

Peter groaned. “I was joking! We’re not seriously going to—don’t you give me that look you super-sized birthday candle! No! We’re not doing it and there is nothing you can do or say to convince me otherwise!” 

\------------------------------------------------ 

“You’re a horrible influence, you know that?” Peter said through a mouthful of hot dog. 

“Me?” Johnny replied innocently, “I just show you how to have a bit of fun!” 

“And ‘fun’ includes breaking the law? We’re supposed to be the ones stopping crimes, not committing them!” 

“Dear, dear Peter,” Johnny began, placing his hand reassuringly on the other’s shoulders, “need I remind you that we did not steal a car, we rode on top of some rich fancy-pant’s limo, and we did not raid a liquor store, but bought almost the entire stock of a hot dog cart.” 

“And the Yankees game?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Storm spread his arms wide. “We’re superheroes! We deserve a little free admission every now and then! And,” he pointed a finger at Peter, “we have the best seats in the house.” 

As he said it, a huge cheer erupted from the crowd. Both men turned their attention to the field where the Yankees hit a home run. Johnny raised his arms up and hollered in triumph along with the others who were seated far below them. 

The two were at the very top of the stadium, sitting with their legs hanging over the edge. 

“So,” Johnny turned to Peter, “aren’t you glad I got you out of class today?” 

Peter mumbled something and sipped on his soda. 

Johnny leaned in closer. “What was that? I don’t understand the mystical language of spiders.” 

“Yeah, I am,” Peter confirmed reluctantly. 

Johnny pumped his fist in the air. “And the award for best friend in the world goes to—” 

“You are the _worst_ best friend ever,” Peter interrupted with a laugh. 

“Well, you’re not much better!” Johnny retorted, pouting slightly. 

“Oh really? Tell me, how am I just as bad of a friend as you?” 

“You never want to come out and do anything with me! Even today I had to practically set you on fire to get you to come out here!” 

“I knew you wanted to set something on fire…” Peter muttered to himself, then continued in a skeptic tone, “So the fact that I don’t go along with your crazy ideas makes me a jerk?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Johnny nodded, “it kinda does.” 

Peter shoved Johnny’s shoulder more or less lightly, just barely hiding a smirk. Looking particularly aghast and offended, the Fantastic Four member shoved back a bit harder. 

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to start this?” 

Johnny matched his expression. “Do you?” 

They stared each other down for a moments, prepared to strike but neither one wanting to make the first move. Finally they gave in and lunged at the same time and started to tussle like a pair of five year-olds. Neither one played fair, of course, with Peter using his spider-sense and enhanced reflexes to dodge and block and Johnny igniting parts of himself in order to deflect an attack. It only ended when Johnny’s fire burnt Peter particularly well and the injured retaliated by grabbing his cup of soda and dumping it over his opponent, dousing his flames. 

“Dude!” Storm cried, wiping the dark liquid from his eyes, “Not cool!” 

“Speak for yourself,” Peter muttered, nursing the shiny burn on his hand. He picked up a couple ice cubes that had escaped his drink and pressed them against his injury. 

“Aw, jeez it’s Dr. Pepper too! Do you know how hard this is going to be to get out of my jacket?” 

“You burned me; I think your jacket can handle a bit of dry cleaning,” Peter glared at Johnny. 

Having gotten their childish energy out, the two sat in silence and watched the game, Peter pressing melting ice to his burn and Johnny shrugging out of his jacket and taking off his shirt to wring it out. 

After a while, Johnny sighed in resignation. 

“Give me your fries.” 

Having slowly begun turning back into sleep mode due to the sudden release of energy, Peter was physically startled by the strange request. He blinked confusedly at Johnny, “What?” 

Johnny held out his hand. “Your fries, bug boy, give them to me.” 

Still not comprehending Storm’s motives, Peter reached over and slowly passed him the box of fries, which Johnny quickly snatched from his grasp. He opened the box and with an ‘aha!’ and pulled out two small packets of vinegar. Not bothering to ask this time, he grabbed Peter’s injured hand and flipped it palm-up, revealing the burn. 

“What are you—?” 

“Vinegar. Takes the heat out of a burn and stops the stinging,” Johnny muttered as he tore the top off of one packet with his teeth. Slowly and carefully, he poured its contents over the injury. Peter flinched slightly at the initial contact, but found that he was getting almost instant relief. 

“Thanks,” Peter murmured as Johnny opened and applied the second packet. 

Storm shrugged. “You learn a lot when you’re a walking fire hazard.” 

Peter watched in silence as Johnny ‘treated’ his wound and made sure to cover all of the burn. 

“I’m sorry I kind of ruined your jacket,” he mumbled guiltily after a while. 

Johnny shook his head. “Nah, it’s cool. I’ll just put the dry cleaning on Reed’s bill, and I will get him to buy me a new shirt too,” he added when he tore one of the few dry spots off of his shirt and Peter began to protest. He then wrapped the cloth carefully but tightly over the wound. 

“Thanks man,” Peter repeated. 

“Just lend me your sweater on the walk back home and we’ll call it even.” The smirk was slowly coming back to Johnny’s face. 

Peter pulled back a bit and shook his head. “No way! You’re all sticky!” 

Johnny’s smile grew and revealed his teeth. “That’s what she said.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “I could always clean you up—” 

“Also what she said,” Johnny interrupted with a wicked grin. 

“—by slinging you into the river.” 

Storm’s smile immediately disappeared. “How about we not and we won’t even say we did?” 

“You’re no fun,” Peter sighed dramatically. 

“That’s my line!” Johnny cried. 

Peter laughed softly and felt his eyes begin to grow heavy. He stifled a yawn and leaned over until his head was resting on Johnny’s shoulder. 

Johnny raised an eyebrow and looked down at the man. “What are you doing?” 

“I am tired and your shoulder makes a decent, if a bit sticky, pillow. It’s also the closest.” 

Storm shook his head but didn’t bother to push Peter off. “You’re such a weirdo.” 

Peter chuckled softly, voice slow with sleep. “Says the guy who tries to pick up women by igniting himself.” 

“Hey, it works…sometimes.” 

Peter laughed softly and Johnny joined in with him. Storm watched the game for a while longer but soon soft, deep breathing drew his attention. He turned to Peter, who was asleep, and smiled and shook his head. 

“Loser.” 

“…jerk.”


End file.
